


This or Nothing at All

by Asher_Ephraim



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst and Humor, Canon Universe, Dirty Talk, Fake interrogations, Hotel Sex, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Podfic Available, Politics, Secret Relationship, Switching, Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:49:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21619405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asher_Ephraim/pseuds/Asher_Ephraim
Summary: A First Order officer and a Resistance pilot walk into a bar. It doesn't turn out the way either expected.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Armitage Hux
Comments: 18
Kudos: 124
Collections: Star Wars Rare Pairs Exchange 2019





	This or Nothing at All

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EffieAgo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EffieAgo/gifts).



**Now.**

“Mr Dameron,” Hux drawls, pressing the control pad to close and lock the door behind him. Slowly he turns to face the man strapped into the interrogation chair.

“General Hugs, lovely to see you again.”

The redhead rolls his eyes as he places his command cap on the stainless steel tray housing standard implements of enhanced interrogation.

“Come on, babe. At least give me a hello kiss.”

Hux’s veneer cracks, then breaks down entirely. He launches himself at the chair and leans down to press his lips against the detainee’s. “Fuck, it’s been so long.”

“Over a year, yeah. It sucks.” Poe clears his throat. “Um, you think you could see your way to letting me out of these?” He glances down to his right and left, indicating the wrist restraints securing his arms to the chair. He wriggles his fingers, the only motion he’s currently capable of besides speaking.

“Of course. Sorry.” Hux rushes to unlock them and a split second later, Poe’s hands are reacquainting themselves with his face, his shoulders, his waist.

“How long do we have?” the pilot asks, a slight furrow between his eyebrows indicating he might not like the answer.

“I can swing eighteen hours.”

“Better than last time,” Poe admits.

“Still, I’m eager to get started.”

“I bet you are,” Poe answers, patting his lap in invitation “So, usual rules?” he asks as the redhead straddles him. “You host, you bottom?”

Hux nods and grasps the front of Poe’s vest with both hands and speaks savagely. “I haven’t been fucked in a bloody year, so you’d better make this good.”

“You know I will, Armitage.”

The general shuts his eyes and breathes out forcefully through his nostrils. “Thank _fuck_.” His fingers scrabble to unfasten the hooks of his tunic.

**Five standard years ago.**

They met in a cantina on Fels Ratha, in unaligned space. Hux was only a captain and still took regular shore leave. Poe was just there to get drunk.

Hux wasn’t even looking for sex, but when the dark-haired man came to stand beside him at the bar, the captain gave him an appraising look. But since this wasn’t a gay bar, he kept the stare short. This planet was a trade hub and therefore relatively accepting, but Hux didn’t want any trouble.

He shouldn’t have worried, because the man turned to him with an open smile and said, “Hey, buy you a drink?”

Hux’s eyes flickered down to the glass in his hand, which was still half-full. The guy wasn’t just being friendly. Feeling the corner of his mouth twitch into an unaccustomed smile of its own, Hux threw back the remainder of his drink and answered, “Sure.”

They stood side by side and gulped at a pair of whiskeys, trading inane pleasantries and admiring glances.

“Want to get out of here?” the man, Poe or Po, asked eventually.

“Only if it’s together,” Hux responded.

They headed to a low-rent hotel a few blocks from the bar. Once the lift doors closed behind them, sealing them alone inside, Hux backed up against Poe who in turn slid his hands around the redhead’s waist.

“What do you wanna do?”

Hux hummed in thought, his mind a bit dulled from the alcohol. “Blow you. Then fuck.”

Poe’s hands pulled him back, pressing Hux’s arse against the front of his pants. “Yeah? You bottom or top, baby?”

“Both. Tonight I’d prefer you to top, though.”

“I can do that.”

Hux wriggled, pressing his arse to Poe’s crotch. “How big are you?”

“About seven inches.”

“Republican or Imperial?”

“Republican.”

Hux knew Poe’s choice of metric system meant something about him, but chose to disregard it for now. At the moment, what mattered was that Republican inches were slightly larger than Imperial ones. “Excellent.”

They tumbled into the room, Hux more or less shoving Poe backwards inside. The redhead kicked the door shut behind him and within seconds was on his knees.

“Been a while, huh?”

Hux nodded, his sight glued to Poe’s hands unbuckling his belt. “Half a year, at least. Too fucking busy.” It was hitting him now, how lonely he’d been without even realising it. It had taken Poe’s touch in the lift to remind him.

“Let’s reset your counter, then, yeah?”

Poe’s trousers hit the floor and Hux surged forward, bracing his palms on the man’s bare thighs and taking him in his mouth.

“Babe,” Poe whispered. “Holy shit.”

Hux read that as a signal to sink down farther. He listened to Poe gasp, felt muscles twitch beneath his fingers. A hand came to support the back of his skull.

“Fucking—fuck.”

It wasn’t exactly poetry, but it made Hux’s own dick jump. After several minutes, drool was dribbling down his chin and he could feel a wet spot forming in his briefs. So he sat back on his heels, fixed Poe with the most smoldering look he knew how to muster, and hoarsely whispered, “Fuck me now?”

Poe gulped and nodded. “Yeah.” Holding his palms out, he helped Hux onto his feet. “Definitely.”

Hux pulled Poe’s vest open and off, then trailed his fingers down the seam at the front of his shirt. “You’ll need to get naked, then.” He lazily undid each button, slowly revealing Poe’s chest and smiling at what he found underneath. He’d always appreciated a man whose body type contrasted with his own. Poe was muscular where Hux was slender, tanned instead of space-pale, and sported a generous amount of body hair instead of Hux’s smooth and freckled skin.

“Your turn,” Poe announced and promptly pulled Hux’s shirt over his head and tossed it onto the room’s only chair. “Oh, babe, you’re so pretty. All pink and…” He laid a hand over Hux’s abdomen. “Show me the rest of you.”

Feeling suddenly flushed from the unexpected compliment, Hux opened his fly and dropped his trousers before peeling down his briefs and stepping out of them. His cock tapped against his stomach, reminding him of the reason he was here in the first place.

Poe hummed appreciatively before adding, “Now turn around.”

Hux obliged, curving his back slightly to accentuate his arse. He knew it was small, but so was the rest of his frame. Most of the men he’d been with thought it was pleasant enough.

“Armitage, fuck.” Poe stepped in closer and placed one hand on either of Hux’s cheeks. “This is the perfect ass.”

“Thanks,” Hux mumbled rather shyly.

“Get on the bed and show off a little.”

“What, you want me to dance?”

“I wouldn’t mind.” Poe moved to the bedstand and jiggled the handle of the drawer. “Stupid bastard thing,” he grumbled as it barely budged. He yanked at it, pulling the entire drawer free. It crashed to the floor, spilling its meagre contents: a travel-size bottle of lubricant and a few packets of condoms.

Stretching out across the bedspread, Hux laughed.

“Shut up. I got what I needed,” Poe muttered as he plucked the bottle and a condom off the floor.

“Yes, it was a very manly display.”

“Speaking of display, I wanna see your ass spread open for me.”

Relieved that he’d had the foresight to wax and thoroughly clean out, Hux flipped onto his stomach and used his hands to part his cheeks. He heard a low groan behind him. The mattress dipped as Poe joined him on the bed.

Poe laid on his side behind Hux, running a palm over the redhead’s hip. “So, what do you do for work?” he asked.

“I’m in the military.”

“Hey, me too.” Then Dameron’s hand paused and his face clouded over. “Which faction?”

“First Order.”

“Shit.” Poe scrambled, backing away. “Uh, I should—”

“I know you’re with the Resistance.”

“Wait, you _knew_? And you still let me fuck you?”

Hux shrugged as he lit a cigarra. “If it’s just sex, I don’t care where your loyalties lie. As long as you don’t try to kidnap or assassinate me, I’m good.”

The pilot stood by the side of the bed, holding his trousers in his arms. “But. Everything you stand for, I’m against. And vice versa.”

“Are you against an occasional hookup? Because I’m not.”

“Maker, this is such a mistake.”

Grinning, the redhead challenged him, “Tell me you don’t want to make it again.”

“I’m not gonna lie, Armitage. Wait, is that your real name?”

“Of course it is. Why the hell would I make that up?”

Poe finally smiled.

They traded contact information and after that arranged to see each other during every break in their schedules, working months ahead of time to synchronise their off blocks. Sometimes all they had was half a night. A few times they managed a handful of days. It became something to look forward to.

**One year ago.**

Four standard years later and they can no longer rely on the safety of neutral territory. Hux made general; Poe is a captain and the Resistance’s top starfighter pilot. Both of them are too well known, their faces broadcast over the holonet and plastered on posters in bounty boards. Some enterprising party could very well choose to abduct one—or both—of them for a decent (from the Resistance) or ungodly (from the First Order) reward.

This is the system they’ve come up with. It isn’t easy, but it’s workable.

Poe hadn’t trusted him at first, figured it was a setup for betrayal. And thus Hux had gone to him, invented an excuse for a quick sortie into a Resistance sector and ended up in handcuffs in a holding cell, where Poe found him.

“You did it. You really did.”

Hux nodded, holding out his shackled hands. He didn’t say what he was thinking, figured it must be clear. _Don_ _’t fuck me over._ He had a backup plan in case Poe did, but he’d rather not use it. Especially since it involved Dameron’s death.

“Hold on, lemme get you out of those.” Poe scrambled to release him, then stood holding Hux’s wrists in his hands.

“Dameron,” Hux said simply, trying to recall the pilot to the moment.

“Yeah. Sorry.” He shook his head as though hoping to clear away whatever concerns he had.

“Come here.” The major reached out and pulled Poe in by the back of his neck. “This is real. I’m here, you’re here. Let’s not waste it by worrying.”

Poe swallowed and nodded.

**Jakku.**

The whole fuck-up with the droid on Jakku complicated their plans, but didn’t entirely derail them. Looking over the surveillance footage, Hux narrowed his eyes at BB-8 but all he could think of was Poe. He was _this fucking close_ to having him again. It made his palms itch in anticipation.

He didn’t even have to arrange for Poe’s transport to the _Finalizer_ this time. It just happened on its own: Resistance pilot captured, brought in for questioning. Highly routine. Hux booked Interrogation Room 2 and went in ahead of time to make sure the recording equipment would accidentally malfunction. Thirty minutes before Poe was due in, Hux punched out from the bridge to go to his quarters for a shower and to prep himself.

But then Ren swooped in and stole his interrogation—his _date_ , rather. Six months of meticulous planning, clandestine and highly encrypted communications, and all the lonely nights in between: wasted. Scuppered. FUBAR-ed.

Needless to say, Hux was livid and barely managed to keep it professional. He’d even let it slip to Ren that he knew the knight’s true parentage, a piece of intelligence he’d been keeping in reserve as a nuclear option.

They had to settle with intermittent holocalls instead. With the security features Hux had put together, the feed was delayed by up to half a second, rendering their conversations stilted. But they couldn’t risk a direct connection: it was this or nothing at all.

Hux sat at his desk in his quarters, lazily polishing up a glass of factory-synthesized wine as he waited for Poe’s call. They’d scheduled it fifteen days ago, but that didn’t mean it was carved in stone. Complications could always arise last minute, and so Hux tried to prepare himself for possible disappointment.

A chime alerted him to an incoming video call request and he let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

Poe’s image appeared above the surface of the desk. “Hey, babe.”

“You know I hate it when you call me that,” Hux snapped with a glare.

“Yeah, but I like the way you get feisty when you’re annoyed with me.”

Hux shook his head, feeling only lightly exasperated. “You’re lucky you’re so damn attractive.”

“I know. So, how’s work?”

The redhead sighed and leaned against the back of his chair. “You know I can’t talk about that.”

“I know you can’t go into details. You _can_ tell me how you’re doing.”

Hux relented. “Pretty well. Standard levels of stress, nothing unusual. You?”

“Getting by. Miss your scrawny ass, though.”

The redhead crinkled his nose and protested, “It isn’t scrawny. It’s… petite.”

“No need to defend it. You already know it works for me.” Poe twirled his finger in the air. “Go on. Spin around and show me.”

Hux gave a smart turn, looking demurely over his shoulder to gage Poe’s reaction.

“How bout without the trousers, darling?”

The general’s sweet smile turned knowing. He unfastened his jodhpurs and stepped out of them, then bent forward very precisely—back dipped, thighs slightly spread. He could hear Poe’s intake of breath. “Like that?” he asked.

“Fuck, yes, like that.”

Smirking openly, Hux looked back. “Getting hard for me, sailor?”

“Wanna see?”

“Mm, yes.” When he turned around to view the screen full-on, Poe was squeezing his cock through his pants. “Fair’s fair. Take it out.”

Poe gave him that wide grin and unzipped his fly to let his erection spring out untouched. Flair for the dramatic, to say the least. “Gods, I wish you were here to suck it.”

“I know you do.”

“No one does it like you, Armitage.”

“What can I say,” Hux began with a casual shrug. “I’m a perfectionist.”

“You’re a goddamn top-notch cocksucker is what you are.”

Hux’s eyes narrowed briefly in suspicion. “You like that, don’t you? Knowing that halfway across the galaxy, one of the most powerful men alive wants to suck you off?” He began to open his tunic exceedingly slowly.

“Yes. I love that General Armitage Hux has swallowed my come and will again.”

“And I love that the Resistance’s top pilot has taken my dick up his arse and called me ‘General’ whilst doing so.” He chuckled lightly to himself. “I think we get off on just how stupid this is.”

“I know I do, babe. Now show me those pretty tits.”

Armitage rolled his eyes until the strain of it became uncomfortable, but that didn’t change the fact that Poe’s ridiculous dirty talk left him breathless. Besides, right now he’d kill to get Dameron’s lips around his nipples. “Would you suck these for me, if I were there?” he asked, flicking a nub with either hand.

“Of course I would. Until you begged me to bend you over and ream you.”

Before he met Poe, Hux was not accustomed to begging for anything. It was curious the way things could change.

**Starkiller.**

Once he confirmed the connection was solid, Poe launched right in. “What the _fuck_ did you do?” he yelled, jabbing a pointer finger in the direction of Hux’s face.

“Ah, you’re referring to Hosnia.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Poe crossed his arms and made a show of awaiting an explanation. “So.”

“So. I received orders, and I acted on them.”

“You blew up a goddamn star system, Hux!”

It didn’t escape the general that Poe used his last name. Anger rose in him, and it was proper anger this time, not simply frustration or annoyance or indignation. He was used to everyone second guessing him: everyone, that was, except Poe. “I’m doing what I can to put an end to this bloody war!”

“And you’re willing to do whatever it takes, huh?”

“I am.”

Poe shook his head and clenched his fists at his sides. Even with the fuzziness of the video, Hux could see the pilot’s arms were trembling. “I wasn’t aware that I was dating a mass murderer!”

The general blinked, startled. “I wasn’t aware that we were dating at all.”

“Karking hell, Armitage, what did you think this was? You think I’d travel across half the known galaxy and let myself be taken prisoner just to get laid? I can go next door for that!”

“Oh,” Hux said. Just _oh_. But he didn’t feel like he had the breath for anything more. He felt like an utter fool. “I didn’t—” He stopped talking to clear his throat, and because he didn’t know what words were going to follow. “I just. I apologise.” He’d never thought his actions in service to the Order had any direct effect on Poe, never considered that they might upset him. Because Poe had said it didn’t matter, and Hux had stupidly taken him at his word. “I’m sorry I misread the situation. I’ll understand if you no longer wish to see me.”

“Armitage, right now I’d like to fucking kill you.”

Hux took a risk and said, “We’re not that different, you and I. I know you’d wipe out the entire First Order military with the push of a button if you had the chance. Including me, of course.”

“That’s different. Hosnia was full of civilians.”

“In war, Dameron, there _are no civilians._ Everyone is on a side. Even those who refuse to side have made a choice, and all choices carry consequences. War is death and hell and there’s no getting around that. I’m trying to end it.”

Poe tilted his head. Had he heard the heaviness in Hux’s voice? The exhaustion? “You mean that. You didn’t make that decision lightly.”

“No, of course I fucking didn’t. I’ll pay for what I did today, and I accept that. Every doubt, every regret, every sleepless night.” He sighed. “But I’d rather not pay alone.”

“Gods, Armitage. I hate you but I still want to kiss you, you asshole.”

Hux allowed himself a tiny smile.

They didn’t talk for months after that. At first, Hux ascribed the lack of communication to external circumstances: the destruction of Starkiller, the attack on the _Supremacy_ , the multi-level disaster that was Crait…

But even once things settled down, while both factions were quietly recovering and regrouping, there was no outreach.

He couldn’t help but wonder if their arrangement, whatever precisely it was, had reached an end. One night after a couple fingers of whiskey, he sent out a request. Even if Poe were still monitoring this channel, Hux wasn’t expecting a response.

After eight minutes, he raised his hand to cut off the transmission but as his finger hovered over the button, there was an audible click.

“Hey.”

He swallowed. “Evening. Or whatever time it is there.”

“I don’t even know. My circadian rhythm’s probably permanently fucked, anyway.” Poe laughed, or coughed. With just the audio, it was difficult to tell.

“I’m not sure if you wanted to continue seeing me. Or even talking to me. Or if you needed time, or…” Hux’s voice wavered and he stopped talking in case it gave out entirely.

“I didn’t know what I wanted. Honestly, still not sure. But I know I’ve missed you.”

“Again, I’m sorry for misreading—”

“Look. I shouldn’t have said we were dating. It just kind of fell out of my mouth. I was pissed. Hell, I’m _still_ pissed.”

“But?” Hux prompted hoarsely.

“But I accept it. I accept you, and I accept that we’re never going to be able to date properly.”

Hux felt his brow furrow; already his mind was attempting to calculate a solution.

“Not unless one of us defects, or we both go AWOL.”

The redhead nearly launched into an explanation of why he wouldn’t, couldn’t, shan’t leave, but Poe continued.

“And that ain’t gonna happen. So here we are. But I hate this, this not seeing you, not talking to you thing.”

“Does that mean you’d like to start back up?” Hux asked, gently and almost fearfully.

“I guess it does,” Poe concluded with a more obvious, more natural laugh. “What do you say, Hugs?”

“Thank you.”

**Now.**

Nuzzling at Poe’s collarbone, Armitage mumbles, “I wish we could do this in my quarters. It would be much more hospitable.”

“Yeah.” Poe is running his fingertips through Armitage’s mussed hair. “But like I said, if this is all we get, it’s better than nothing.”

Hux gives Poe an intent, searching look. As he locks sight with the pilot, he feels a tightening in his chest that is somehow both pleasant and painful. He holds his breath for a moment, then slowly sighs. “Well, here’s to better than nothing,” he announces before leaning in to place a kiss on Poe’s jaw.

They lie together as long as they can, keeping quiet and simply maintaining physical contact. Eventually, Hux lets out a small sigh and extricates himself from Poe’s arms, stretches his limbs, and begins to gather his uniform.

“So, what have you arranged for my getaway transport?” Poe asks while Hux pulls his jodhpurs up.

“Oh,” Hux answers with a casual wave of his hand. “Take Ren’s Silencer.” He turns around to truly savour Poe’s reaction.

“You’re fucking shitting me.”

“Absolutely not. Also, I’ve made some recent upgrades you may appreciate.”

Poe is slowly shaking his head, still coming to terms with the offer. “I’d propose to you right now, if I thought there was any chance of you accepting.”

“Go ahead. I might just say yes.” Hux leans down and runs a thumb over Poe’s lips. “But you need to get going.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] This or Nothing at All](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24341047) by [Orson_Bennett](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orson_Bennett/pseuds/Orson_Bennett)




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